Unreported News on the Non-Compete

Non-compete clauses got out of hand. Once a reign on executives and professional employees, many lower-wage employers have been telling their employees that they can't leave their job for another in the same field. Nursing assistants, fast food workers, and janitors are some of the employees who have recently found themselves sigining such agreements. However, these are not common in the shipboard side of the maritime sector. Since the Seaman's Act of 1915, as lobbied for by Andrew Furuseth, the American seafarer was permitted to "break articles" in any US Port. While I have not found an explicit requirement to allow seafarers to choose a different employer, it is certainly implicit in the culture surrounding seafaring, where employee's ties to a company are weak, and ties to a union and job hall being strong. To be fair, the system of impressement that existed prior to 1915 (and that still exists globally) was replaced eventually by strong unions and a "closed shop" hiring system for ocean-going, unionized ships. Within this system, there is mobility between different companies and different types of ship (one could be on a car carrier one voyage, and on a grain ship the next). However, as written by John Konrad from GCaptain, maritime wages have stagnated under the closed shop system, where unions would compete against each other to sign a contract favorable to the employer. A new generation of union leaders, who labored under these conditions, agreed to allow some healthy competition through a mechanism known as a passthrough agreement. This would incentivize shipping companies to sign more generous contracts, as poorly-paying ships would be unable to find crewmembers. Reducing the barriers to personal economic competitiveness is working in the maritime sector. How about the rest of the nation? California became a leader in tech and other innovation due to its longstanding, strong prohibition on non-compete clauses. Predominately in the near-South and the West, state legislatures and courts have invalidated many classes of non-compete clauses, and to do so through nationally through the Federal Trade Commission would follow a winning trend.

Work Hard, Play Hard, Retire Well: The Skilled Labor Shortage Explained

At the beginning of the 21st century, highly-skilled transportation professionals had in their hands a golden bargain that the Greatest Generation fought for and won. In exchange for long periods away from home- weeks or months- ship's officers could retire at the age of 50, with a fully-funded pension. Airline pilots had the same pension by the age 60. These comparatively short career durations, less than 30 years, predictably allowed younger professionals to move into frontline leadership roles, as First Officers and Captains during their family-building years. Ceremoniously, officers of the Marine Engineers' Beneficial Association would turn over their Merchant Mariner's License- their meal ticket- when applying for pension payments. There was no legal authority to take away the pensioner's license to work; only a moral one, in that one should not compete against family men and women for work, while collecting a pension. There was a surreptitious feeling among retirees who requested replacement credentials from the US Coast Guard for various retirement pursuits, such as operating their own tour boats. Over two decades, the mandatory retirement age for airline pilots increased to 65; and the American Maritime Officers' (AMO) pension fund was frozen, in exchange for a 401(k) plan. Notably, the AMO continued to allow recipients of pension buyouts to continue bidding on jobs. In comparison to blue-collar work, sitting in the pilot's seat or at the shipboard watch desk was not physically arduous, although work physicals were required. But early retirement was something for family members of airline pilots and ship's officers to look forward to, after decades of missed family celebrations and shift-work schedules: "I know I'm missing Christmas again, but it's only 3 more years to go". These unique jobs were nevertheless wrapped into the greater cultural zeitgeist of "never retiring" among senior workers, and the careerism of middle-class millenials. Retirement-eligible ship's officers continued to hold jobs at the top of each career ladder into their sixties. These jobs remained economically lucrative, even as payscales for new entrants stagnated: "Suck it up, young buttercup, just wait your turn for the big bucks". The COVID-19 pandemic shook up the zeitgeist. Perhaps retirement wasn't so bad, after all. Some of the job perks in the air or at sea, like going ashore in foreign countries, vanished. The ship master's reponsibility for controlling the spread infectious disease, thought to be a vestigial relic of the smallpox and polio era, came to the forefront. Who will fill these senior-level jobs that have suddenly come open? Having gone years with limited prospect of upward mobility, younger officers with transferrable knowledge and skills may have become disenchanted with employment in global transportation, and moved into other careers. What is the price for bringing back the workforce? At the Military Sealift Command, a 50% salary incentive is bending the curve in recruiting Chief Mates back from their shoreside employment. Flagship airlines are coming to accept this price as well, signing collective bargaining agreements that offer double-time pay for weekend work.

Real World Constraints versus the Ivy Swimming Pool

 A certain college swimmer has been in the news for bending the rules, so it’s said. Not naming names, because anyone could have been the test case, switching from the Men’s to Women’s team without a significant interlude. Unnatural advantages are nothing new: earlier this century, the famous biker Lance Armstrong muddied the waters with his steroid use- apparently taking more than required for his medical condition. But what stands out, if I may say, is the swimmer’s sense of “due”. Sociologist Annette Lareau uses the term "entitlement" as a professional-class sense of belonging in a place, a term which I think has taken a negative connotation recently.

 In the Real World (that is, outside the literal Ivory Tower), prioritization and the acceptance of constraints is a fact of life. Two good things can be mutually exclusive: being a nationally-ranked Men’s Team Swimmer, regardless of gender identity, as this individual was; or receiving treatment for gender dysphoria. In mutual exclusivity, you do one thing first, then the other. The re-established three-year waiting period to switch teams, in the case of transgender players, may hobble a student-athlete’s athletic career, but delaying medical treatment for career or other ambitions is not out of the ordinary in the Real World.  

 For some mariners, including those on the high seas, it is impossible to complete a series of orthodontic treatment, while earning a paycheck: the location and time of shore leave is unpredictable, and not conducive to monthly appointments. For women mariners, the same constraints apply to fertility treatment; and if successful, non-seagoing work would have to be found for the duration of pregnancy. In my case, it took a year to find time to see a nasal specialist: when I was on a high-tempo ship, I relied on walk-in clinics, who could not give specialists’ referrals.  

Forgoing treatment, extending treatment (in the case of government mariners who work year-round), or skipping medication commonly seen as disqualifying for a safety-sensitive position, are all common in the shipping industry. We have come a long way, in some respects. It is no longer expected to work through an injury, or accept chronic pain “like a man”- an irony, as women have higher pain tolerance. Seeking mental health care is no longer a disqualifier for security work. Yet, for quality-of-life care, there remains a question of access, even if these people at sea and in other remote environments can afford it. This is what the Real World sees in the Ivy League swimmer’s case.